Living Contradiction
by Ebyru
Summary: Loki hates Captain America, but over time he realizes it's a lie. Excerpt: Loki's long fingers continue to trail across the soft fabric of Steve's blanket until he reaches the bare skin of his calf. Steve moves away slightly, but he keeps his gaze on Loki, forever studying him, trying to read the unreadable man. But he isn't afraid, that much is obvious.


Hello! This is probably my favourite Avengers pairing; I tried very hard to get that across in this story. :)

There are possible spoilers for the Thor/Captain America/Avengers(2012) movies. :) Enjoy!

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**Living Contradiction**

Loki doesn't _give_, and he certainly doesn't do it when it's expected of him. He likes people who are self-sufficient, who don't mind taking care of him (for once), and that don't expect much more than a genuine smile in return. He also doesn't want to be _told_ what to do, but being guided towards the right path could work. It's a dream – a wish, practically a prayer – for him to meet someone who fits the criteria exactly.

And then Captain America is found deep in the ocean.

Loki hates Captain America with a passion, a fury he's only ever had for his family in Asgard who lied and betrayed him. If there's anything Loki doesn't quite understand, it's his feelings, this not being an exception to that rule.

Captain America is brave, strong, independent and an astounding leader. Maybe no one can tell, but far beneath the mask of strength he wears and the flag he carries, Loki can see he's just a follower. He's careful of rules, keeps within laws; never strays far from his rightful path. In many ways he's just as Thor was when they went to battle together, and perhaps that is a hint as to why Loki's dislike for him is so potent.

But there must be something more; the Captain cannot be exactly like Thor. They are different creatures of different worlds.

Loki gets an idea, a special kind, one fueled by his craving of knowledge. Curiosity is not something Loki's ever tried to take control of, and he doesn't intend to start any time soon.

Captain America is asleep when Loki appears in his bedroom. And as simply as that, with the human breathing softly, unaware of how vulnerable he is to attack, uncovered and unprotected under a simple blanket, Loki's view of the American superhero has changed.

He doesn't hate him, he _loathes_ him.

The man shifts under his cover, rubbing his eye sleepily, and Loki doesn't even attempt to leave before he's found out. The blonde sits up abruptly, tension coiling through every one of his limbs, his eyes wide in shock.

"Loki…"

Loki sends his staff away rather than explain that he means no harm. Not that he thinks Captain America will truly believe him. "Captain. I take it you were resting well before my arrival? Dreaming of the day your planet will no longer need heroes to protect it?"

The mortal shakes his head, throwing the blanket off. "I wasn't dreaming of anything." He pauses, not taking his eyes off the trespassing figure. "Why are you here, Loki?"

Loki snorts, stepping forward exaggeratedly so the man has time to acknowledge his approach. To his defense, he doesn't seem shaken anymore. That can always be fixed later. "I've been wondering about the great Captain of America."

"I'm not wearing my suit. I'm not on duty either. I'm just Steve Rogers right now."

Trailing a finger across the blanket, Loki contemplates what _Steve_ has said. He'd never considered that there was another person behind the red, white and blue costume – the bulk and prowess that is Captain America. But now that it's an option, no, a _reality_ that Loki is seeing for himself rather, one that has been confirmed by those simple words, there is more that the Trickster would like to find out.

"Steve…" Loki utters the foreign name, letting each new sound swirl around his tongue. It feels new, better than when he says _Captain America_.

Steve hasn't moved, isn't saying anything more. He's waiting for the next move. He's not quite panicked or anxious so much as curious. _Yes_, he's curious to know about Loki's intentions. Or – possibly – he's equally as curious about _Loki_.

Loki's long fingers continue to trail across the soft fabric of Steve's blanket until he reaches the bare skin of his calf. Steve moves away slightly, but he keeps his gaze on Loki, forever studying him, trying to read the unreadable man. But he isn't afraid, that much is obvious.

The hatred Loki has in his heart shrinks a bit. He grins and turns to leave. "I'll leave you to your dreams, Steve. Do expect another visit."

A week passes and Loki is in Steve's bedroom once more.

The young man stirs much faster this time, but he doesn't bother removing his blanket. When he leans against the headboard of his bed, Loki notices Steve's chest is bare. Secretly, he wonders what else Steve isn't wearing today. Pale expanses of skin have always fascinated Loki; he's always wished he were a skilled artist so he could keep the memories through drawings. Steve tugs the blanket up, covering his skin.

"Good evening, Steve."

Steve nods, a bruise under his eye catching Loki's attention. The darkness of it – the purples and browns – makes the blues of his irises stand out. It almost makes Loki want to offer him another injury simply to accentuate the colour further.

"Is that from today?" Loki points to his own eye, smirking.

Scowling, Steve dips his head; the angle just right for Loki to see the flush, but the bruise being hidden to him. So the great Captain America can be unruly, can he? Ah, yes, this is Steve Rogers though. Loki musn't forget that.

"Was there something you wanted?" Steve's features smooth out, his lips parted slightly as he breathes – quietly, calmly, still unafraid of Loki it seems – but he doesn't look up. And maybe that's what draws Loki in; the blatant refusal to submit, no matter the situation.

Loki teleports onto the bed next to Steve. He grabs Steve's jaw roughly, tilting his head to get a better view of the bruise, of the man carrying it. Steve frowns, his brow creasing, reaching out for Loki's hand. His fingers wrap around the narrow wrist, dragging it away from his face.

"I asked my question already. But you seem intent on ignoring it." Loki crosses his arms, turning to face Steve completely.

Steve swallows, dropping his hand to his lap. He closes his eyes for a moment. "Yes. It's from training with the Avengers." When he reopens his eyes, Loki's face is closer than it's ever been.

"I thought at least an opponent would be the one to cause damage. It seems only your teammates are worthy adversaries." Loki could most definitely replicate this injury if Captain America were in his way, though. He presses a finger to the bruise, and Steve winces, grabbing for his wrist automatically.

"Sorry," Steve murmurs, pulling away.

Loki smirks. It's so _easy_. Where Captain America is strict and hard-edged, Steve is open and pliant. Where Captain America is leader-like and unwavering, Steve is reserved and unsure. There are two opposing entities in this one body, and it makes Loki giddy to know that one of them fits exactly into the slot he has been keeping open.

Loki quite likes Steve Rogers and his gentle, understanding, often disobedient nature. It could make for a lot of interesting scenarios. The hate Loki has for Captain America diminishes incrementally due to the existence of dear, complicated _Steve_.

"I'll return again." Loki whispers, pressing a kiss to the bruise under Steve's left eye. The god does notice the flush that climbs Steve's face, and finds it most delightful.

Steve continues snoring for a few moments until he hears soft panting next to his ear. Loki's green eyes are gazing at him, admiring and curious as a cat, but not as sharp as usual. He shifts in bed, trying to treat his 'guest' politely, but Loki pushes gently at Steve's shoulder until he's flat on his back.

"Is something wrong?"

Steve thinks he can almost hear the reply slipping past Loki's lips, but the traces of them vanish after a moment.

"What were you dreaming of? You seemed at ease." Loki grins, his dark hair falling over his ears as he leans closer to Steve.

The lie would be 'nothing'. _I've not been dreaming of anything because you always interrupt my sleep, and I never know when you'll be showing up again._

The truth could be disastrous. _I've been dreaming about you. Ever since Thor spoke to us of his brother, of a man so confused and alone that he'd turned on all his loved ones, I've dreamt of you. I've wanted to help, to heal you._

Loki's eyes screw shut and he leans his forehead to Steve's. Something is hurting Loki physically but he doesn't trust Steve enough to admit it. Maybe that's what forces the truth out.

"I was dreaming of you."

The Trickster's eyes widen, but he recovers quickly. His pale fingers stroke Steve's cheekbone, watching the mortal's lashes flutter when his digits are too close to his blue eyes.

"Would you take care of me if I asked?"

Steve's lungs feel crushed under the weight of the question, the implication of it. Does this mean Loki truly is hurt?

"Yes."

"Even if I refused to offer my gratitude?"

Fingers tickle along Steve's lashes, forcing him to close his eyes and give in completely. His heart is racing, beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird flap. Loki huffs out a soft chuckle, the warm air making Steve's cheeks burn. There's really no point lying anymore.

"Yes."

Loki whimpers, fisting in Steve's t-shirt. "Then take care of me, Steve."

Steve breathes out the reply, "Okay."

Steve helps Loki strip off his armour, and tends to the deep cut along his ribs in silence. Loki doesn't leave that night.

Loki doesn't _give_, and he certainly doesn't do it when it's expected of him. He likes people who are self-sufficient, who don't mind taking care of him (for once), and that don't expect much more than a genuine smile in return. He also doesn't want to be _told_ what to do, but being guided towards the right path could work.

It _was_ a dream – a wish, practically a prayer – for him to meet someone who fit the criteria exactly.

And then Steve Rogers started waiting for him every night.

The End


End file.
